


Anything You Can Do I Can Do Better

by afteriwake



Series: The Ordinary & The Extraordinary [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-09 05:54:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 16,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4336415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sally has worked hard to get to where she is in her career, but she seems to be overshadowed by Sherlock Holmes at almost every turn. After Sherlock is brought onto a case she was working without her being asked first she decides she's going to solve it by herself and enlists Molly's, and later Mary's, help. In the end, Sally and Molly end up coming to a few realizations about what they're capable of and what they deserve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Chitarra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chitarra/gifts).



> So on Tumblr I got a beautiful and really detailed prompt from **Chitarra** for a fic where Sally and Molly team up against Sherlock and John to solve a case when Sherlock is all set to swoop in on one of Sally's cases. This is going to have multiple chapters and hopefully I can hit all of the high points in the story. The actual case idea came from **red_b_rackham** on Livejournal for another fic I was writing but worked perfectly for this story.

She’d spent her entire career having to prove she was better. Better than the people who she trained with. Better than the people who she started her career with, patrolling the streets of London. Better than the people who laughed at her when she said she wanted to be involved in the homicide squad. Better than the people who scoffed at the idea that there would be a woman who could actually close cases. Better than the people who thought the world needed less ambitious female coppers and more women who wanted to stay home and have babies and take care of the menfolk. Sally Donovan had been having to prove herself better for so long it was second nature, but except for a glorious period of two years she’d come up against the same brick wall ever since Greg Lestrade took her under his wing, and that brick wall was named Sherlock Holmes.

She’d admit he was brilliant. Grudgingly, of course; she said it to his face and his ego would get all trumped up and he’d be insufferable. Admittedly it had toned down since the day he’d had to convince the world he’d jumped off the roof of St. Bart’s, but she remembered the old days well and wounds inflicted by his callous words and callous actions ran deep. She tried her best to avoid him, distance herself from the resident genius when he came round. And for the most part Greg was okay with that; there were usually two cases going on at once, since even with Sherlock’s brilliance there was still a shortage of manpower at Scotland Yard, and not all the cases that crossed their desk warranted the consulting detective’s attention. Holmes could have the flashy cases and she’d stick to the threes and below, as he ranked them. So long as the killers were caught, that was what mattered to her.

The case she’d been working on lately involved more than just homicide. There had been a series of thefts, jewels and valuable goods stolen from rich people’s homes, and no one was sure how they were connected. Normally the division that dealt with robberies would handle it but with the tenth robbery there was a homicide victim, a Roger Handel, who was the butler of the estate where the robbery had taken place. He was supposed to have been on holiday but had been there and tried to stop the robbery and gotten shot in the chest in response. Sally had asked to work the case as the liaison from the homicide division when there had been a death in one of the earlier robberies and he’d okayed it, and she felt she was getting closer and closer to a connection. But now that there was another robbery and another murder it wasn’t just her working on it from the homicide division anymore. Lestrade was devoting all his resources to it.

Resources that included, she realized as she walked into the conference room and saw a familiar figure sitting in a chair, idly doing something on his mobile, his pet consultant.

She made her way over to where Greg was talking to DI Lambert. “Greg, what is Holmes doing here?” she asked.

“It seems like it’s the sort of thing he can puzzle out easily enough,” Greg said.

She was quite hurt at that, at the fact that Greg didn’t have the confidence in her that she’d thought he’d had, that he didn’t think she could solve it without help from the great Sherlock Holmes. And that angered her. Oh, it made her blood boil. “This is _my_ case,” she said, trying to keep her temper in check. “I’ve worked hard on it with Lambert and his team. It’s not right and it’s not fair that you’re going to have Holmes come in and tie it all up in a neat little bow and steal all the glory.”

“Sally, we all want to catch the person before he kills again,” Greg said in a placating tone, and Sally just got even more irritated. She _knew_ that. “Sherlock is good at what he does. He’ll help, we’ll catch him, and that’s one less menace on the street.”

“Not if I solve it first,” she said, turning on heel and moving away from Greg. She sat at a part of the conference room where she wouldn’t have to look at either Greg or Holmes as she began to figure out what to do, how to get one up on Holmes. She didn’t have many friends with connections, but she had one. The problem was, said friend had had the largest and most improbably crush on Holmes, and there was the chance she’d feel loyalty to him. After a moment she discreetly pulled out her mobile and pulled up her text message application. _Holmes is assisting in my case._ Sally typed. _I need your help. I need to solve this before he does._ She sent to text to Molly and then waited.

Her phone buzzed when she got a response. _The robbery/homicide case?_

_Yes. Greg doesn’t think I can solve it on my own. I need to prove him wrong, and you’re my only hope._

There was a pause before Molly replied. _All right. But only because I think it’s not fair that Greg decided you needed help without asking you first. But it feels strange._

 _Thanks. And I’m sorry to put you in this position._ Sally texted back. Then she added _I owe you._

 _Yes, you do._ Molly replied. _I’ll call you when I have the new autopsy done, and I won’t tell Sherlock anything._

 _I appreciate it._ Sally texted back before stowing her phone. If anyone would be able to help her solve this case before Holmes did what he always did and took all the credit for himself, it was Molly. She just hoped she wouldn’t crack under the pressure.


	2. Chapter 2

Molly did the autopsy quickly but thoroughly. She was quite puzzled by it, to be honest. The cause of death was asphyxiation, but there were no telltale markers to show _how_ the victim asphyxiated. There were no signs of a struggle, no signs he was poisoned, no signs he was suffocated. She sat at her desk and tapped a pen to the pad she had in front of her. She was attempting to puzzle it out the way Sherlock would puzzle it out, because in all honesty this seemed to be the type of case he’d guess in seconds.

Sherlock…he hadn’t come by to get the results. He had to have known by now she’d done the autopsy; he knew her prioritization system and this was a five on her scale. But he hadn’t come by for the results yet, which frankly she was quite thankful for. It gave Sally a chance to get there first. She hadn’t said as much via text, but she could see why Greg would call Sherlock in on a case like this. Why he would do it without informing Sally first, as she assumed had been the case by Sally’s first text, was another matter, though. She would easily admit Sherlock was brilliant and that Greg did much better when he was around, but Sally was quite capable as well and deserved the chance to show that more often. It wasn’t right that he’d taken that chance away from her without asking her first.

She stopped tapping when she heard the doors open and relaxed when she heard heels clacking on the tile floor. Heels meant Sally, not Sherlock. Sally only wore heels on days she planned on doing interviews at Scotland Yard, to give her a bit of extra height; if she was going anywhere near a scene she immediately put one of the pairs of trainers she kept stashed around in case she ended up having to chase after suspects. “Sally?” she called out.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Sally called back. A moment later the office door opened. “The _boys_ all went back to the crime scene to, as Sherlock said, ‘see what was missed.’ I figured you’d be done by now, so…”

Molly nodded, her ponytail bobbing slightly as she did. “Cause of death was asphyxiation. He was already dead when he was shot in the chest. How it happened, though, I’m not sure. I have tests to run, but I _can_ rule out strangulation and smothering, and any other ways where he would have put up a fight.”

“That’s interesting,” Sally said thoughtfully, crossing her arms. “If he’d asphyxiated, why go to all the trouble of shooting him in the chest?”

Molly tilted her head slightly. “Well, let’s look at this more closely,” she said thoughtfully. “He wasn’t supposed to be there at the home, right?”

Sally nodded, moving around the office a bit. “He was supposed to be on holiday. The home was supposed to be deserted while the owners, Mr. and Mrs. Thorndike, were at a charity auction. They arrived back at the home at 2:18 in the morning and found him in the doorway of the sitting room, shotgun blast to the chest. There hadn’t been much blood at the scene, which had struck me odd.”

“Having already been dead, no blood pumping through his veins means no blood pumping out when he was shot,” Molly said. “So you have a man who’s asphyxiated by some means and _then_ shot. It seems a bit like overkill.”

“Overkill…or a bit like someone wanting to leave a message, or make a point,” Sally said slowly. “Perhaps he was connected to all of this in a way that was more than just being at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to dig more into his background, I’d think,” Molly said.

Sally looked over at her. “Do you have any theories on how he could have asphyxiated?”

“A few,” she replied with a nod. “I need to run some specific tests, and give the body another onceover. But since I know the shotgun blast wasn’t the cause of death I have other things to look for now.”

“Good,” Sally said. She was quiet for a moment. “What are you going to tell Holmes?”

“The truth,” she said. “But that’s all. I won’t go into any of my thoughts, and I won’t let him examine the body himself. And if he has a problem with it, tough.”

Sally gave her a grin. “Thanks, Molly. I really do owe you.”

“Well, by the time I get done going through the tests I need to run it should be the end of my shift. If you want, we can go to Viaduct Tavern and I can go over the results I have and you can tell me what you learned by digging into his background. Meal and drinks are on you.”

Sally nodded. “Sounds fair to me,” she said. “Text me when you’re ready?”

“I will,” Molly said with a grin. Sally turned and started to leave her office, and then paused. “What is it?”

“You know, it’s nice to get to work with the best,” Sally said, turning back to Molly with a grin.

“But we’re trying to avoid Sherlock,” she said with a frown.

“Not Holmes,” Sally said, shaking her head. “Most of my cases, I deal with other pathologists. And they’re all right, I guess, but they aren’t the best. You’re the best pathologist in the whole of London. Maybe even the whole of the UK. I doubt any of them would run elaborate tests and then go over results after they’ve gone home for the night. Most of them wouldn’t bother giving the body another onceover, trying to find a way the victim could have asphyxiated without a struggle. You…you actually give a damn, Molls. _That_ makes you the best.” Then her grin widened. “And if there was anyone in the world who could get any secrets from the _great_ Sherlock Holmes aside from John Watson, it’d be you. That makes you quite formidable in the solving crimes department.”

Molly blushed. That was really such a wonderful compliment to be paid. “Thank you. I doubt I could get anything from Sherlock, though.”

Sally scoffed slightly. “The man’s in love with you, Molly. It’s clear to anyone who looks at the two of you together. He’d do just about anything you asked without any fuss. I doubt you’d even have to ask him, to be honest.” 

Molly’s eyes widened. “Sherlock? Really?”

“Oh, come on. Everyone can see it,” Sally said. She glanced at her watch. “I’ve got to get back to the Yard if I want to get digging into Roger Handel’s background and actually have things to tell you at dinner tonight. But text me when you’re ready to eat and I’ll meet you there, yeah?”

Molly nodded, still slightly dazed. “All right,” she said before watching Sally leave. That last bit of conversation was quite unexpected. Did he really fancy her? Was it really something everyone could see so plainly? She wanted to think about it, but now was not the time. Now was the time to start running the tests and trying to figure out a way to keep Sherlock in the dark so she and Sally could have a chance of solving this case first.


	3. Chapter 3

Sally got the text from Molly at five fifteen, and by five forty-three she was outside the Viaduct Tavern, about to go inside. Molly had said she’d put in for a reservation since the pub was on the smallish side and filled up quickly. Sally had to admit it was one of her favorite places in London, and not just for the excellent gin and tonics. There was history with the place. She’d gone on a lot of various ghost tours growing up and had always been fascinated by this place. She’d had her first real drink here. She never shared it with the lovers who flitted in and out of her life, because they were never around long enough. She’d never even been here with Philip, and they’d been together for longer than most. But she shared it with the people she considered her best mates, and that included Molly.

She went inside and spotted Molly at a booth. “I hope there are no ghost tour people tonight,” Molly said as Sally got closer. “The one man leading them gives me the creeps.”

“But not the ghosts themselves?” Sally asked as she slid into the booth.

Molly shook her head. “So long as the ghosts aren’t vengeful ghosts I think we can all exist together in harmony,” she said with a smile. “Though I might send that tosser on to the afterlife if he leers at me again.”

“I’ve still got my gun in my shoulder holster,” Sally said with a grin. “I could flash it at him.”

“I’d appreciate it,” Molly said. Sally could see she wanted to say something else, as she was biting her lip nervously, but she shook her head. “Wasn’t sure if you wanted your usual so I didn’t get anything yet. I figured I’d wait until you got here.”

“It’s definitely a gin day,” Sally said, rifling through her handbag. “Interviews with those closest to the victim went nowhere. No one could think of any reason his death would be used as a warning. According to his friends and family he’s a bloody saint.” She pulled out her notepad after a moment. “The only person I wasn’t able to talk to was an Annabelle Gardner, the victim’s girlfriend. Her roommate said she was too distraught to talk and had taken a sleeping pill to get some rest. I’m going to try again in the morning.”

“Hopefully you’ll get somewhere,” she said, and Sally could see a twinkle in her eye.

“You’ve got something,” Sally said shrewdly, narrowing her eyes.

“I might,” Molly said. “But let’s get our orders in before I go into details. I’m going to get my usual.”

“I’ll go place the order, then,” Sally said with a nod before heading to the bar. Sally put in their food orders first, getting Molly a New York Deli toastie on granary bread with a side of pickled onions and a pickled egg while she got herself a London Porter smoked salmon & cream cheese toastie on granary bread with a side of chilli & garlic olives and wasabi nuts. For drinks she ordered Molly her favorite, the William Parsons, and she sweet talked the bartender to see if there was any of the summer seasonal infusions left and ordered two glasses of the Cardamom & Peach that was left since that had been her favorite. She might be nice and let Molly have a sip or two. Possibly. Depending on what good news her friend had for her. She went back to the booth with the three glasses and scowled just slightly at Molly’s raised eyebrow. “I wanted to make sure I got two glasses of the Cardamom & Peach in case anyone else though of asking.”

Molly’s face got a puppy dog expression. “If I’d known they had that…”

“How good is the good news you have?” Sally asked, keeping all three drinks on her side of the booth.

“Well, as I said, the cause of death was asphyxiation,” Molly said. “And I’d wondered how on earth you could asphyxiate someone without them struggling. And while I haven’t quite figured out that part I’m a bit closer. I figured out what substance was introduced into the victim’s body to _cause_ the asphyxiation.”

“Well, what was it?” Sally asked.

“Succinylcholine,” Molly said triumphantly. “It’s actually quite brilliant. Hospitals use it for anesthesia, but used the wrong way it can paralyze a person without sedating them, so they asphyxiate because they simply can’t breathe. However, I’m trying to figure out how it was administered because the victim showed no signs he was in a horizontal position when he asphyxiated. Rather, he was in a vertical one.”

“He was standing up?” Sally asked.

Molly nodded. “Yes, or at least he was mostly standing up. He could have been propped up against someone or something. But he didn’t struggle, and that’s why I’m surprised. See, I haven’t found a pinprick anywhere noticeable. Of course, I wasn’t looking quite as thoroughly as I could have, and tomorrow I can do a more thorough search, but the tests I ran showed that succinylcholine was what brought on the asphyxiation.”

“If you didn’t see a pinprick how would you have thought of that?” Sally asked.

“I was trying to think of any possible way it could have happened, anything at all, and run e very test I could think of,” Molly said. “I was bound to hit some logical explanation by discarding all the other logical and even some illogical explanations.”

“Impressive,” Sally said with an approving nod, pushing one of the Cardamom & Peaches towards Molly. Molly’s smile got wider as she took the drink and took a sip. “Well, now we just have to figure out how it was administered.”

“I can figure out the where tomorrow,” Molly said. “Once I have then, then we can work on the how.”

“And in the meantime, I can work on trying to dig more into Roger Handel’s life,” Sally said, taking a sip of her own drink. “I think I’m going to do what you did, look at all the logical reasons and a few of the illogical ones someone would want to use him as a warning.”

“You should also start discretely looking into the lives of those closest to him,” Molly said. 

“That’s a good idea,” Sally said. “Roger is the lynchpin in all of this, I know it.”

“Well, I can’t take all the credit for the idea,” Molly said, looking down. “Sherlock would do that often enough. And he’d also look at all the possibilities and whatever remained, however improbable, would end up being the truth.” She took another sip of her drink. “Or I gather it was something like that.”

“Then we’ll use his own playbook against him,” Sally said with a grin. “I have a good feeling about all of this, Molls. I think we’ll be able to solve this without him or anyone else’s help.” She picked up her drink and took a longer sip. They had a plan of action, so this was good. Hopefully no unforeseen surprises would pop up. But yes, she really did have a good feeling about all of this.


	4. Chapter 4

Molly had gone in promptly in the morning, intent to do a very thorough reexamination of Roger Handel’s body, but she hadn’t counted on having Sherlock and John waiting for her outside of the morgue. She slowed down as she approached the doors. “Hello,” she said quietly. “Do you need something?”

“Handel’s autopsy report,” Sherlock said, moving to open the door for her.

“I can go over it for you instead, if you’d like,” she said, hoping he would take her up on the offer. “I haven’t typed it up yet.”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow as she brushed past him. “This was a five,” he said.

“Yes, it was. So I did the autopsy quickly and got the results. But Sally already came and got them.” She made her way to the office. “Since the original officer in charge collected the results and I did have other bodies to process I thought I could wait a bit to type them.” It wasn’t an outright lie, just a tiny one, and she made it a point to keep the same cool, collected and calm demeanor she’d had when she was convincing the world she was grieving for the man in front of her when they were convinced he was dead.

He studied her for a moment, but John spoke then. “Well, that makes sense. I do it at the clinic all the time. I mean, even if it’s important, as long as you have the notes, writing up the reports can be put off till later.”

“See?” Molly said, giving Sherlock a smile. “I’m not the only one.”

He seemed to give John the mildest of glares and then turned back to Molly. “I suppose I’ll have to study your notes, then,” he said.

She nodded, going for the notepad she used so she could have a paper record as well as an audio record. “I already transcribed them, so I’d have one less thing to do.” She had not written down her thoughts about the means of asphyxiation in her notes, thankfully, so Sally was still one step ahead of Sherlock, at least for the moment. She sat in her chair. “It’s a bit puzzling.”

“No it’s not,” he said, speed reading her notes. “Cause of death wasn’t the shotgun blast to his chest. Too little blood at the scene. He was already dead when he was shot.”

“Yes,” she said with a nod. “Asphyxiation. But there was no struggle and no signs of suffocation or smothering.”

He flipped a page in the notes. “Is the body still here?” he asked after a moment, looking over at her.

She bit her lip for a moment, and then nodded. “In the refrigeration unit.”

A curious look flitted across his face, but then it was gone. “I don’t think we’ll need to see it. You’ve taken such thorough notes that I’ve gleaned all I’ve needed to,” he said quietly. “And I think the thievery ring is the more important angle to look into.”

“Oh?” Molly asked, surprised. “Why is that?”

“I believe Handel’s death was a warning,” Sherlock said. “A message to someone in that ring. The question is who. And I intend to answer that question.” He handed her back the notes and then looked at John. “Give us a moment?”

John nodded. “All right,” he said. Then he turned to Molly. “Oh! Before I forget. Mary said she’s wanting to host a book club. Said it’s what she thinks she’s supposed to do, now that she’s all domesticated. She knows you like to read and thought you might like to help. I doubt there will be much reading. More like wine and gossip.”

“Well, I do like wine and gossip just as much as I like curling up with a good book,” Molly said with a chuckle. “I’ll call her this afternoon, see what she’d like me to do.”

“Thanks,” John said. “I think she’ll appreciate it.” He gave her a slight wave and made his way out of the office.

Sherlock watched, then turned to Molly. “You don’t approve of my swooping in on this case,” he said quietly when the morgue doors shut.

“What?” she said, blinking.

“There is more to this case than you’re telling me. You know more. And that’s fine. I understand the loyalties that lie between friends,” he said. “But I thought I was your friend as well.”

She shook her head. “Sherlock, you are my friend. You’re one of my very best friends. But Sally works very hard, and she has every right to solve this case on her own. Or at the very least she should have been consulted first _before_ you were brought on, instead of finding out by walking into a meeting and seeing you there.”

He blinked. “She didn’t know?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No. No one thought to tell her.”

“I see,” he murmured.

She got up out of her chair and stood in front of him. “Sherlock, I am your friend. You are very dear to me, probably more dear than you should be. And most of the time I will help you in any way I can. But this time I’m helping Sally. I’m going to use everything I’ve gleaned from knowing you, from working with you, to help her solve this case before you do.” 

She was almost afraid he was going to get angry but he seemed to accept it well enough, simply nodding. “Then I suppose we’ll see how good a student you are,” he said, and she almost thought she saw the barest hint of a smile on his face. He turned then and left her office, leaving her standing there slightly confused. She wasn’t quite sure what had happened, but she somehow got the feeling that the case had been turned into an official men vs. women challenge of sorts, and things were about to get _very_ interesting.


	5. Chapter 5

Sally hadn’t been able to see Annabelle Gardner in the morning, much to her frustration. She’d slipped out at some point in the night, taking all the cash in the flat, and her roommate had no clue where she had gone. Sally had made sure that there were people keeping an eye out at all bus and train stations but if she’d made a run for it early in the morning she could be anywhere by now. Annabelle’s roommate had said the money for their rent was in the flat, waiting to be taken to the bank, and there was almost two thousand pounds there. That was more than enough to take her far away from London, though not enough to keep her situated for long, she hoped.

She was at the Yard, studying the slim file on the first victim on all this, waiting to see if anything would hit. That one had looked as though it was an accidental death in the course of the robbery, which is why everyone had seemingly paid it no mind, but knowing now that Roger Handel had been asphyxiated with succinylcholine prior to being shot Sally had asked Molly to take another look. So now all she could do was wait for Molly to do a thorough reexamination of the first body. Although...

She picked up her mobile and looked at her contacts, debating things. On the one hand, they had barely spoken to each other since their affair had ended. Her calling him up out of the blue was going to be strange, and she wasn’t sure he’d actually _want_ to speak with her, or help her; after all, his marriage had imploded when it had come out that they’d been shagging. She probably wasn’t someone he wanted to see. On the other, he had been brilliant at what he did, and she could use a bit of brilliance. Not that she and Molly didn’t have it in spades, but knowing when to have another point of view in things was the mark of a good policeman, and she was, arguably, a _very_ good policemen. After a moment, she pulled up his contact and hit the small phone icon.

He picked up after three rings. “I’m surprised to hear from you,” Anderson said quietly.

“Well, I’ve heard you’ve become a consultant of sorts since you left the Yard,” she said. “And I’d like to see if I could make use of your services.”

“Officially or unofficially?” he asked.

“Officially we’re using Holmes on this case,” she said. “So it would have to be unofficially.”

He was quiet a moment. “I’m taking it you aren’t happy they’re using Sherlock.”

“Not when he was brought in without asking me first, since this was _my_ case,” she said, a hint of irritation entering her voice.

“Then for old time’s sake I’ll help you out,” he said. “haz St. Paul’s in a half hour?”

“All right,” she said. “Thanks, Philip.”

“You’re welcome.” He hung up then and she lowered her mobile, staring at it. It was good they were meeting on neutral ground, not one of the places they’d snuck off to when they were fooling around. He still remembered she liked Mediterranean, though. She was surprised by that. She supposed that he remembered the small details about her, just like she remembered the small details about him. Perhaps if things had been different, it might have been better. They might have been happy together. But her life didn’t work that way.

She made her way to her police vehicle and drove to the restaurant. The perk of using that is she could park wherever she pleased and she got a prime spot, making it there just in time. She saw Anderson out front, waiting. She had to admit, she rather liked the beard and scruff. It suited him. She gave him a small smile as she approached. “You made good time.”

“So did you,” he said with a nod. He opened the door for her and they went inside. It didn’t take them long to be seated, and they were both studying the menu . 

There were quite a few things that seemed appealing to her. She was leaning towards the Cicek Menu but there were other things making her mouth water as well. She could always add onto it, she supposed. After a moment she looked over at Philip to see him looking at her, a grin on his face. “What?”

“You look like you’re going to take one of everything off the menu,” he said.

She chuckled just a bit. “I’m rather tempted,” she said. “But this is near Barts so I can bring Molly here sometime and try things I don’t eat now.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he said with a nod. He set down his menu. “This should feel strange, but it doesn’t.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” she said. “I’d thought it’d be…awkward, all things considered. But it’s not.”

“Us wasn’t a very good idea,” he said quietly. “We made a mess out of things and ended up losing a good friendship.”

“We did,” she said with a nod and a sad smile. “You always were one of my allies against Holmes. I mean, I know you’re a fan now, and I suppose he’s not so bad…most of the time.”

“Well, him coming in and taking this case isn’t exactly making me inclined to sing his praises,” he replied.

Her smile brightened. “That’s good to know.”

“Why was he brought in, anyway?” Philip asked, leaning back in his seat. “You’re working the robbery ring, right?” She nodded. “It isn’t a strange case, or a complicated one. I mean, you’re more than capable of handling it on your own.”

“Ten robberies and two deaths. Upper brass wants it solved yesterday and Holmes is their golden boy,” Sally said with a sigh. “I mean, you were there. You saw what it’s like. It’s hard enough competing with Holmes. It’s ten times harder if you’re a woman.”

“Then you’ll just have to be smarter than him,” he said. “And you can do it. You’ve always been able to do it,” he said. “He’s a genius, yeah, but you aren’t an idiot. You aren’t even close. If anyone can give him a run for his money, it’s you, Sal.”

The smile she gave him was genuinely warm, the type she used to back in the day. This was something she had grown to love about him. And while their relationship may no longer be physical or sexual or even romantic, there was still an undercurrent of genuine affection between them. There was a bond there. She reached over and put a hand over his. “You know, you were one of the few people who managed to crack my tough exterior. I’m glad for that.”

He gave her a slight grin back. “Well, chances are we probably shouldn’t ever go back to what we had before, but friends…if you think we could go back to that…”

“I think we could,” she said with a nod. “I’d like to try, at least.”

“Good,” he said with a nod. She squeezed his hand and then she let go and pulled her hand back to her own side of the table. “Okay, so once we place our order then you can get down to the details and we’ll see if I can offer anything to help, all right?”

“All right,” she said. She felt good about her choice to call him in on this. Not only that, she felt good about her choice to mend their relationship. If nothing else, if they could be friends again, that meant one more person in her corner, one more person she could rely on. One more person who gave a damn about her that she gave a damn about in return, and Lord knew she needed those. So this was a good step in the right direction.


	6. Chapter 6

Molly had just finished reexamining the first death involved in the burglary ring, a woman named Teresa Marruffo. She was an elderly housekeeper who everyone had assumed had gone downstairs and simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time and suffered a heart attack at the fright. Molly had not been involved in her autopsy and while the person who had done it wasn’t initially happy when she said she wanted to take a second look once she explained the reason why the objection was lifted. She was quite glad she did; Teresa’s cause of death was also asphyxiation by succinylcholine. She felt an immense sense of satisfaction as she stripped off her gloves and went into the office to first alert her colleague and then Sally.

She had almost made it there when the morgue doors opened and an orderly came in with another body, and directly behind him were Sherlock. She gave him a quizzical look. “Did you need something?” she asked.

Sherlock nodded to the body that came in. “As much information as you can get on him,” he said.

She glanced at her watch and frowned. “Sherlock, it’s nearly four PM. I have paperwork to write up from what I just got finished doing and then it’s time for me to go home.”

“It’s important,” he said. “Time is of the essence.”

“Yes, well, time is of the essence in what I’m doing, too,” she said, getting mildly frustrated as she went to get the paperwork from the attendant who had brought her the body. “You can just wait for Dr. Hamilton to come on shift, or you can wait for me to do it tomorrow.”

Sherlock looked at her. “Any particular reason you need to be out of here on time?” he asked, a slight edge to his voice.

“Are you jealous?” she asked surprised.

“What? Me?” he asked, surprised. “No. I’m not…no.” he shook his head. “You just usually seem eager to do me favours. Now you’re not.”

“Sherlock, I want to go home, get some takeaway, have a nice glass of wine, go take a long soak in the tub and _relax_ ,” she said. “And I want to do it all sooner rather than later. What makes this body so important, anyway? Is it going to help you solve the murder that Sally’s working on?”

“I don’t care about the murder,” he said, waving his hand. “She can solve that. I care about the robbery ring. That’s the more interesting angle.”

She gave him a peculiar look. “You’re giving up the opportunity to solve a murder case to solve a robbery ring,” she said slowly.

“Yes,” he said. “And the sooner I know more about this victim, the sooner I can stop the next robbery and, perhaps, more victims.”

She bit her lip. She didn’t _want_ to help him. And she really shouldn’t; if he solved the robbery case and the robbery case was connected with the homicide case then he’d get all the credit once again and Sally was out in the cold. And really, the takeaway and glass of wine and long hot soak were calling her name. “Let me see if I can have Dr. Hamilton come on early. He’s always looking for a reason to pick up extra hours.”

Sherlock studied her. “You really won’t do anything to jeopardize helping Donovan,” he said quietly.

She nodded. “No, I won’t. She deserves the chance to solve this case before you. Since you’re just working on the robbery you can take care of that, that’s fine, but I have work to do on the homicide and I’m going to take care of that and you can’t distract me. So I’ll call Dr. Hamilton and see what I can do, all right?”

“Very well,” he said with a nod. 

She gave him a quick smile and then stowed the body in the refrigeration unit once she was done signing for it before heading to her office. As the body she had the news about was Dr. Hamilton’s this phone call killed two birds with one stone. She told him her findings about the new cause of death, and then asked him to come in two hours early to help Sherlock, promising that if he did she’d make it up to him at a later point. She had to accept a dinner invitation, which she supposed wouldn’t be too bad, but at least Sherlock would have his answers earlier.

She dialed Sally next. She picked up on the third ring. “Hopefully you had a better day than I did,” Sally said glumly.

“The first victim also did by succinylcholine-induced asphyxiation,” Molly said. “So her death wasn’t accidental.”

“ _Now_ we’re getting somewhere,” Sally said, perking up slightly. “How was it administered?”

“Syringe, same as Roger Handel,” Molly said. “What’s interesting is that Teresa Marruffo was tall for a woman, roughly the same height as Roger Handel, but the killer was shorter. The needle mark was in the same location for both of them: not quite in the neck and at a slight upward angle.”

“It means they were killed by the same person,” she said.

“Yes,” Molly said. “And I think it means they were killed in a way that shows professional training. Military training, at least. Or perhaps…more.”

“I could reach out to some of my military contacts if you could give me an idea of how it was done,” Sally said.

“I could do one better than that,” Molly said. “I know someone with the type of training that might be useful in helping us figure out how this was done. I’m just not sure if she’ll help due to loyalties.”

“Loyalties to whom?” Sally asked.

“ _Well_ ,” Molly said, stretching the word out slight. “Her husband is Sherlock’s best mate.”

There was a pause on Sally’s end. “Do I want to know what kind of past Mary Watson has if we’re going to ask her for help?” she asked finally.

“We can say dubious and leave it at that for now. I mean, she’ll own up to that much. How much more beyond that…not sure. That’s up to her. But I can ask her if she can meet with us tomorrow.”

Sally was quiet for a moment. “It’s better than what I can come up with. Call me with a time and place and I’ll make sure I’m there.”

“All right,” Molly said. She paused for a moment. “Sherlock’s here.”

“At the morgue?”

“Yeah. He came in with a body. Wanted me to autopsy it for him but I’m having Dr. Hamilton do it. It’s for the case.”

“If there was another homicide they bloody well should have called me in,” Sally said, incensed.

“I don’t think it has to do with that,” Molly said. “I think it’s only tangentially related.”

“It better be,” she said. “What did you have to do to get the lech to agree to come in and do Holmes’s autopsy?”

“Dinner,” Molly said, flushing slightly.

“Molly, he’s going to spend all night trying to get in your knickers. Especially if there’s alcohol involved,” Sally said with a sigh.

“I know. But I didn’t want to help Sherlock with the case.”

“I’d rather have had you help Sherlock than set yourself up with Hamilton.” Sally paused. “Call Hamilton up, back out of the date and do the autopsy yourself. I promise I won’t hold it against you. And I’m sure Sherlock will be happy when he finds out what you narrowly escaped.”

“Are you sure?” Molly asked, biting her bottom lip.

“I’m positive. Much as I want to beat Holmes at this I don’t trust Hamilton and his grubby hands. You deserve better, Mols. Go help Sherlock and tell him he owes you big time for it. Who knows? Maybe you can collect and get that date you’ve always wanted.”

Molly blushed slightly. “Sherlock wouldn’t go out with me.”

“Holmes would, Molly. Once he gets it through his skull he could very well lose you to some other guy if he keeps dillydallying, he will. Go help him and then go relax. If I can track down Roger Handel’s girlfriend before I hear from you I’ll call you and let you know what I find out, all right?”

“All right,” Molly said before hanging up. She hesitated a moment before picking up the phone and calling Dr. Hamilton again. It was a very awkward conversation and he didn’t take it well, sounding quite angry towards the end, but the dinner date was broken and she went back out to the morgue to see Sherlock waiting patiently. “I suppose I’ll be doing the autopsy after all.”

He blinked. “Dr. Hamilton refused?” he asked.

“Let’s just say he agreed, but the price was too high,” she said, reaching for a pair of gloves.

“What was the price?” he asked curiously.

She flushed slightly. “Dinner with me,” she said, putting a glove on. “Sally said it was in my own personal best interest to do the autopsy myself rather than put myself at his mercy on a date.” She had glanced at his face and saw his jaw set at the word date. “So I called him up and cancelled the date and decided to do the autopsy myself.”

“And how did he take it?” Sherlock asked quietly.

“Not well. I don’t think things will be pleasant for a while,” she said, putting the second glove on.

“I see,” he murmured. He studied her for a moment. “I have an errand I need to run. I’ll be back for the results in a few hours.”

She nodded. “That’s fine.”

“What are you in the mood for?” he asked.

“Pardon?” she asked in response, looking up at him in confusion.

“You mentioned takeaway and wine. What are you in the mood for? I’ll bring some when I return. Maybe not the wine, but at least the takeaway. I believe I know most of your favorites well enough.”

She gave him a small smile. “Indian?” she asked.

He nodded. “I’ll be back with Indian by the time you’re finished,” he said. “Thank you for doing this, Molly.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, her smile growing wider. He turned and left then and she began to get to work, going to the refrigeration unit and getting the body out. It was going to be a long few hours, and she had quite a bit of work to do, so it was best if she got right down to it.


	7. Chapter 7

Sally had just made her way into her part of the Yard when she heard raised voices in Greg’s office. It sounded as though it was Superintendent Seltzmann and…Holmes? She was tempted to eavesdrop but she didn’t, instead going to her desk and then glancing at the closed office door every few minutes. Finally it opened and she saw Seltzmann stalk out, red in the face. A few moments later Holmes walked out. She got up and made her way to the office. Greg looked as if he’d aged ten years since she’d seen him the day before. “Everything all right?” she asked.

“I had to do some very fast talking to keep Sherlock from getting thrown off this case,” Greg said, rubbing his forehead. “Or worse, getting himself barred from being a consultant period.”

Sally leaned against the door. “What happened?” she asked, crossing her arms.

“He broke a pathologist’s nose,” Greg said, running a hand over his face. “And then dislocated his shoulder and nearly broke his arm.”

Sally’s eyes widened. “Holy hell,” she said.

“He wouldn’t tell Seltzmann why he did it but I got it out of him and _apparently_ it involved Molly being called a series of unflattering names. The minute he called her an, and I quote, ‘bloody frigid cunt,’ he said he couldn’t help himself.” 

She was quiet for a moment. “It wouldn’t have been Dr. Eric Hamilton, would it?” she asked.

Greg nodded, looking over at her. “How did you know?”

“Because Molly asked him to do her a favour, because she’s helping me with the case and Sherlock wanted her to do _him_ a favour, except Hamilton’s a lech who talked her into a date and he’d spend the whole damn night trying to get into her knickers so I told her to back out of the date and to just do the favour for Holmes herself,” she said, coming into Greg’s office and sitting in the chair across from him. 

Greg studied her for a moment. “And so he was already angry at Molly for backing out of a date he felt she owed him,” Greg said slowly.

“Well, he didn’t actually do the favour for Holmes, as far as I can tell,” she said. “I haven’t spoken to Molly yet. But I imagine he felt cheated. I mean, he should have been angry at _me_ since I told her to do it. But she’s one of my best mates and I’m not about to let someone like that wanker hurt her.”

Greg nodded slowly. “Well, it’s a mess. Sherlock’s going to have to apologize, in public. And he’s going to have to _mean_ it.”

Sally scoffed. “To be honest, I sincerely hope he doesn’t.”

“Yeah, me too,” Greg said. “Hamilton always struck me as scum.” He tilted his head slightly. “He’s had Molly in his sights for a while?”

“Unfortunately. It’s a good thing she writes the schedules for the department. She can put distance between them as much as possible and there’s not a damn thing he can do about it.” She glanced back at the doorway. “Holmes might actually have gone up in my estimation for that. And I may actually tell him that, whether it feeds his ego or not.”

“Yeah, well, I already did,” Greg said with a grin. He was quiet for a few moments. “He said Molly was doing an autopsy to help him with the robbery angle. I suppose you aren’t working on the same lead?”

She shook her head. “No. I think Roger Handel is the key to it all. His death was a warning. I mean, he was already dead when he was shot in the chest. There’s no reason to do that unless you’re trying to leave a message, and the only message of that type to leave is a warning. And the first victim in all this was killed the same way.”

“So she didn’t die of fright?” Greg asked, surprised.

“No. Molly said she found the pinpricks in both victims that prove the killer was shorter. We think they possibly have military training.” She remained mum on Molly’s thought they could have other training; she wasn’t particularly close to Molly’s other friends, aside from Greg, and she wasn’t sure how much Greg knew or didn’t know about whatever it was that was in Mary’s past. "Molly said she had a lead who could maybe shed some light on that for us. I was going to call her in a few minutes.”

“But you wanted to find out what was going on in here first,” he said, giving her a wry glance.

“Well, Seltzmann’s voice carries,” she said with a small smile. “I just wanted to make sure _your_ job wasn’t on the line. I mean, I know you like Holmes and all, but if one of the two of you has to go, I’d prefer it be him and not you.”

“I’m touched, Sally,” Greg said with a grin. “But no, my job’s not on the line, not over this. Sherlock got defensive but he took full responsibility on his own. I just wish he’d tell Seltzmann what he told me. Seltzmann has a soft spot for Molly. He might not understand the brutality but I doubt he’d be _quite_ so hard on Sherlock.”

“Perhaps if a hint or two were dropped?” Sally suggested.

Greg stared at her for a moment. “Are you suggesting that you might _actually_ help Sherlock out of this predicament?” he asked finally, raising an eyebrow slightly.

“Well, it’s partially my fault he got into it,” she said. “I may explain the background of the situation to Seltzmann, let him see what further questions he wants to ask and who he wants to ask them of. If Holmes is smart, and maybe if the right person talks to him, then he’ll stop being so damn obstinate about the situation and explain it all.”

“Worth a shot,” Greg said with a nod. “But talk to Molly first and follow up your lead. It’s got potential, if it is who I think it is.”

This time it was Sally’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “Do I want to know how many of you know exactly what type of past Mary Watson has had?”

Greg chuckled. “Much fewer of us than you think. I only found out by accident myself. If she tells you any part of the truth, then it means she likes you. And I rather hope she does.” He nodded to the door. “Call Molly. See if she’s set up a meeting and try to get her to talk some sense into Sherlock before he does anything _else_ stupid.”

“All right,” Sally said, getting up out of the chair and heading back to her desk. After a moment, though, she changed her mind. Since smoking was prohibited around Scotland Yard no one went up to the roof anymore so she’d get some relative privacy up there, though she was fairly sure everyone in the Yard would know what Sherlock had done by the end of the day. They didn’t need to know about Mary, though, or whatever they could glean from her end of a phone call.

Once she was on the roof she dialed Molly’s number. If she remembered correctly, today was her day off, and she hoped Molly wasn’t too upset for her calling so early. But she seemed bright and chipper when she answered with a “Hi, Sally” after the third ring.

“Did you talk to Mary yet?” she asked, pacing around on the roof.

“Yeah. She said if you can take a bit of a lunch, she’s got John watching their daughter. She said to meet up at Gymbox Covent Garden at noon and then she’ll show us there in one of the private rooms the ways it could have gone down. Then she said she’ll treat us both to a quick bite if we aren’t too sore afterward.”

“All right, good,” Sally said. “I can take a bit of a lunch today, so long as I keep my mobile on in case we get word on Annabelle Gardner.” Then she was quiet for a moment. “I need to talk to you about Sherlock.”

“Did something happen to him?” she asked, a hint of worry entering her voice. “I mean, he didn’t come back for his results last night. I thought his errand might have run long so I didn’t worry too much, but…”

“He went and beat the snot out of Hamilton for calling you, among other things, a bloody frigid cunt.”

Molly gasped. “Oh my God,” she said.

“Almost got told he couldn’t be a consultant anymore. Greg knows the whole story, and I do too, but Sherlock isn’t saying one word to Seltzmann that he was protecting your honor. And you know Seltzmann has a soft spot for you.”

“He did say I remind him of his daughter,” Molly said.

“Yeah. So tell Sherlock to do the smart thing and tell Seltzmann the whole story, all right? Much as I would love to not have Sherlock around anymore, I’d rather have it be for some other reason. I mean, hell, if Hamilton had said those things around me I probably would have shot him in the kneecaps.”

“Well, at least I know how he really feels,” Molly said. “I’m glad I backed out of the date. I wouldn’t have let him touch me with a ten foot pole. I can just imagine what he’d say about me at the hospital behind my back.” She was quiet for a moment. “I’ll talk to him, though. See if I can get him to see reason. I have autopsy results to give him anyway.”

“Good. I mean, he did a stupid thing, beating him up, but he did a stupid thing for a good reason. Or at least I think he did. But…don’t tell him I said that.”

Molly chuckled. “Your secret’s safe with me, Sal. Let me get off the phone with you so I can call him, all right?”

“All right. See you at noon, Molly.” She hung up and then made her way back inside the building. Slowly, things were starting to come together. If they could just find Annabelle Gardner they’d come together _faster_ , but as long as she had open avenues to work, she’d do her due diligence as a police officer and follow every lead she could until she hit a brick wall, and then she’d move on to the next. And hopefully, Mary Watson would not prove to be a brick wall.


	8. Chapter 8

Molly was pleased to see Sally wasn’t in the business casual clothes she wore to Scotland Yard when she arrived at the gym to meet up with her. Mary wasn’t there yet, but she had said if they got there early to go wait at the coffee shop near the Leicester Square tube station. They made their way over and each got a coffee to their taste. “Have you found the girlfriend yet?” Molly asked, taking a sip of her coffee.

Sally shook her head. “I’ve put out word farther afield, all over England, but if she’s left the country I’m not sure what I’m going to do,” she said, cradling her coffee in her hands. Then she sighed. “I should have demanded she be woken up and I should have talked to her before she bolted.”

“You didn’t know she’d bolt, though,” Molly said. “But have you looked into why she would?”

“I’ve tried to, but there isn’t much to learn about her. She hasn’t led a life where she’s stuck out very much. Nothing that put her on the radar before now. And everyone who knew her said she was mild-mannered and this is just so unlike her. This is just making me think more and more she knows something.”

“Well, then maybe we should dig deeper,” Molly said, biting her lip slightly.

“We?” Sally asked, giving her an amused smile.

“I mean, if I can help you with this,” Molly said, flushing slightly. “It’s just…it’s like we’re Sherlock and John, where you’re Sherlock and I’m John.”

“Well, in a way it is, but you’re not being John. You’re being yourself,” Sally said with a warm smile. “I mean, John’s a doctor, but he never would have thought to go through all the different ways a person could suffocate. And then, would he have thought to look for the pinpricks? Probably not. He does a lot for Sherlock, I suppose, but he’s not Sherlock’s equal. To me, you’re my equal.”

This time, Molly blushed. She looked down and then when she looked back up she was giving Sally a wide smile. “Well, you’re just as smart as Sherlock is. I mean, not in the same way, but you’re still just as brilliant. And don’t let him tell you any different. If he does, well…then he’s an idiot.”

“Oh, be still my heart. You just admitted Sherlock could be an idiot,” Sally said with fake shock.

Molly laughed and shook her head. “Well, he can be. I mean, while I appreciate him standing up for me with Eric he didn’t need to go so far. I mean…breaking his nose? Dislocating his shoulder? That was overkill.”

“Not for a man who’s _obviously_ in love with you,” Sally said, rolling her eyes.

“He is not in love with me,” Molly said, shaking her head again, a bit more vigorously this time. There was no way Sherlock could be in love with her. Fond of her, yes. _Exceedingly_ fond of her, obviously, because no man would go to those lengths for someone they were only moderately fond of. But in love with her? No, there was no way.

“Keep telling yourself that, Mols,” Sally said, rolling her eyes before taking a sip of her coffee as Mary entered the shop.

“Mary!” Molly called over, glad to get away from this topic of conversation. She and Sally moved over and she gave her friend a hug. “You remember Sally Donovan, right?”

Mary nodded, holding out her hand. “I do,” she said with a smile towards Sally. “But it’s always nice to renew acquaintances.”

“It is,” Sally said with a grin. “So Molly said you might be able to help us with a problem we have.”

“Well, I have a rather…eclectic background,” Mary said. “I know quite a bit about hand to hand combat, I know multiple ways to kill a person without leaving much of a trace, and I have rather intimate knowledge of how to stage a murder to look like an accidental death.” Sally’s eyes were wide. “Ex-CIA assassin, at your service.”

“She must really like you,” Molly said with a laugh. “It took me a while to learn the truth.”

“Well, Greg vouched for her, and he also said she’d probably be very nosy and wonder how I knew what I was showing you and it was best to get it out of the way up front,” Mary said to Molly with a smile before turning back to Sally. “His words, not mine.”

“Huh,” Sally said, surprised, looking at both of them. “So…John married an ex-assassin, and you all know about this, and everyone’s okay with it?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” Mary said with a nod.

“Interesting,” Sally said. She tilted her head slightly. “When you say _ex_ -assassin…?”

“I’ve been out of that particular game for years now, since Sherlock got tangled up with Irene Adler,” she said. “I was brought in to clean up that mess after my quote-unquote ‘superiors’ royally botched that mission up not once but twice. But then Irene died, even though she really didn’t, and I was tasked with keeping an eye on Sherlock. And then when _he_ quote-unquote ‘died,’ I decided I wanted out so I got out. The CIA occasionally has me do surveillance in a pinch, in conjunction with MI-6, but other than that I’m no longer a part of the game. In exchange my family is kept safe, for the most part. There was one exception, and I ended up trying to get myself out of it to…rather disastrous results.”

Sally’s eyes widened. “Did you shoot Sherlock?”

Mary tilted her head back and forth, as though she wasn’t sure she was waffling about answering, before she nodded. “To be fair, though, I wasn’t given much of a choice. And he forgave me before my husband did.”

Sally shook her head and then sighed. “I’m just going to file all this away in ‘things that may be important to remember on a personal but not professional level.’”

“You are definitely a smarter woman than Sherlock gives you credit for,” Mary said with a grin. “I think I’m really going to like getting to know you.” She nodded towards the counter. “I’m going to get a coffee and we can drink and chat for a bit and then we can go to the gym. I have guest passes for you and I’ve booked us use of the matted combat area and the assistance of two of the VPTs.”

“VPTs?” Molly asked.

“Very Personal Trainers. I don’t usually use one but when I said it was to help the police with something a few of the VPTs were quite eager to help. I have a male and a female VPT who are roughly the same size as the victims who said they’d love to help.”

“Good to know there are people who like to help the police,” Sally said with a small grin. 

“Well, as the three of us are all shorter than the victims and three different sizes ourselves we should get a good estimate on how tall the killer is, if Molly can show me the height and angle of the pinprick. I have dummy syringes to use.” Sally raised an eyebrow, and Mary reached into the bag she brought with her to pull out a strange looking syringe that had a very fine felt tip marker instead of a needle at the point. “My husband’s contribution. When I told him what Molly had asked me to do I said it might help to have something like this on hand. He got _quite_ excited at the prospect of helping me whip something like that into shape. I have three of them, with a different color marker for each of us.”

Molly hid a grin behind her coffee cup. “John never struck me as the hands on type,” she said.

“Oh, well, he is,” Mary said. “ _Very_ hands on, if you catch my meaning. And he greatly appears to enjoy his wife working on these types of cases, too. Quite a bit. I think I might find myself invited on a few of his cases, possibly. I doubt Sherlock would mind.” She picked up her coffee. “Anyway, the tip of the marker is a bit larger than a syringe, but the actual syringe encasing it is the same, so the grip and hold should be about right. I may have to buy Francesca and Brian a new vest, possibly, if they’re wearing a white one like I asked, but it will be worth it.”

Sally shook her head. “I’ll reimburse them. Out of my personal account, too…I won’t even worry about trying to get it out of the Yard accounts.”

“Perfect, then,” Mary said with a nod. “When we’re done with our coffees it should be just about time for our session to start, then. We’ll stow our things in the locker room and then head out to the mats and I’ll introduce you and we’ll get to work.” The three women drank their coffees and chatted a bit, and when they were finished they made their way back to Gymbox Covent Garden. Molly looked around the place and saw it actually looked like a rather nice place, better than her own gym. She was looking for a new place to go and perhaps if this afternoon left a good impression she may consider coming here, especially if Mary was already a member. They walked nearby the giant boxing ring and made their way to the mats, where a tall ginger man and a tall brunette woman with her hair pulled back in a ponytail stood. “Molly, Sally, this is Francesca Dash and Brian Onstot, the VPTs who are going to help us. Francesca and Brian, this is Molly Hooper and DS Sally Donovan, who are working on the case.”

The four of them shook hands and said their hellos to each other, and then Sally looked at the four of them. “So we have two victims who were stabbed in the upper back by someone roughly between my height at the tallest and Molly’s height at the shortest with a syringe full of a chemical that caused them to asphyxiate, with very little struggle. Mary’s said she knows a few ways this could have been done, and so that’s why we’re doing this.”

“I have a dummy syringe with a marker in it to see where the pinpricks would be,” Mary said to Francesca and Brian, going to her bag. “It’s why I asked you to wear white vests. Sally said she’d replace them.” Sally nodded at that when the two of them looked at her. “So, then. Let’s get started, shall we?”

What came next was an hour of Mary showing them all various holds and maneuvers, running through them a few times until Sally and Molly got the hang of them, and then all three of them doing them with their specific dummy syringe. Molly studied the results on the vests until she came to the conclusion as to what type of hold was most likely used in the killings. Sally thanked Francesca and Brian and, after a quick trip to an ATM, reimbursed them handsomely for the vests that had gotten ruined in the course of the experiment. After that the three women went to the locker room, took quick showers and changed out of their sweaty clothes into fresh clothing before heading to Abeno Too for a bite to eat.

“I had no idea those vests were so expensive,” Sally said as she picked up the menu.

“Yeah, but it was worth it,” Molly said.

“I suppose,” Sally replied. “At least we know the killer had some military training.”

Mary reached into her handbag and pulled out her wallet. “I can pitch in a bit to cover some of it,” she said.

“But you’re covering lunch,” Sally protested.

“It’s fine,” Mary said with a grin. “I can tell you for a fact Brian inflated the price of his. There’s no way that damn vest of his cost a hundred pounds. I’ll make sure I badmouth him as much as I can for that.” She pulled out some money and gave it to Sally. “Taking advantage of law enforcement is despicable.”

“Thanks,” Sally said with a smile.

“I’ll get you some as well,” Molly said, reaching into her own handbag. She dug around and frowned. “I need to go to an ATM first.”

Sally waved her hand. “Why don’t you treat me to dinner tonight? I still have to deal with the rest of my day.”

“I could do that,” Molly said with a smile. “Do you want to eat out, or do you want to have me cook for you?”

Sally thought for a moment. “Were you planning on making anything special tonight?”

“Well, I was considering trying a recipe I found, lamb tagine shepherd’s pie,” she said. “And maybe a lemon pie.”

“Oh, that sounds heavenly,” Sally said, shutting her eyes. “I’d rather go to your place to eat.”

“Me too,” Mary said.

“Well, why don’t you?” Molly asked. “Bring Renee with you to give John a break and come over. I mean…” She looked over at Sally.

Sally nodded. “The more the merrier,” Sally said with a grin as her mobile went off. She dug around in her handbag to find it before answering it and putting it to her ear, a smile growing on her face. When she hung up she looked at Molly and Mary. “I got more information on Annabelle Gardner. Her financials, her university records, and a few things that I had to get a court order for.” She stood up. “Sorry I have to dash, but I’ll be over at your place for dinner tonight, I promise. What time?”

“Sixish?” Molly said. “Just bring wine.”

“Red or white?” Sally asked as she picked up her handbag and gym bag.

“Red,” Molly said.

“All right. I’ll be there around six with a bottle of wine,” Sally said. She gave the both of them a wave. “See you both tonight.”

Mary watched as Sally made her way out of the restaurant and turned to Molly. “I hope she gets good news out of all of this. I love my husband, I do, but I’m rooting for her to solve the case before Sherlock. There’s something about her I quite like.”

“Yeah, me too,” Molly said with a grin as the waiter came to take their orders. Molly gave the window one last look to see Sally heading towards her police vehicle before turning to the waiter and placing her order. She really did hope there was some good news out of all of this for Sally. She certainly deserved it.


	9. Chapter 9

Sally had the kernel of an idea once she went over the information she got on Annabelle Gardner, particularly her financial statements. It had grown a bit more once she read over some of the other information that was given to her, especially the things that had had to be released by court order, but once she arrived at Molly’s flat and knocked on the door she had a clearer picture of just how Annabelle may have fit into the overall picture and just who the warning of Roger Handel’s death may have been meant for.

She knocked on the door, hearing laughter on the other side, and after a moment the door opened with Mary standing there, a blonde toddler on her hip. “Hi, Sally,” she said with a grin. “You timed it well. Molly’s just taking the individual pies out of the oven.”

“Oh, we get individual ones?” Sally said with a grin, shutting the door behind her once she came in.

Molly nodded from the kitchen. “I had to make adjustments since the recipe was in an American cooking magazine, but yes. Each one is in an individual ramekin. It makes six so if one doesn’t fill you up there’s a second one with your name on it.”

“Well, it smells divine in here,” Sally said. “Very…Moroccan.”

“That’s what I told her,” Mary said with a grin. “But Sally, let me introduce you to my daughter, Renee Linette Watson. Renee, this is Mummy’s friend that she helped today, Sally Donovan. She’s a policewoman who works with Uncle Greg.” Renee waved at Sally and gave her shy smile but didn’t say anything. “She’s a bit shy.”

“It’s all right,” Sally said with a grin of her own. Then she looked at Renee. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Renee.” 

Renee yawned in response. “The little kiddo didn’t take a nap today,” Mary said, shaking her head. “ _Somebody_ let themselves be dragged out by a certain consulting detective while he was watching his daughter so she’ll probably fall asleep any minute now, which is going to wreak havoc on her bedtime later.”

“She’s more than welcome to lie down in my guest bedroom,” Molly said, removing something else from the oven. Sally thought it must have been the pie. “The bed is all made up so you can just tuck her in, and there’s a lamp on the nightstand if she needs a light on.”

“Thank you, Molly,” Mary said gratefully. Mary looked at her daughter. “Do you want to go to sleep, sweetie?” Renee nodded, and so Mary left to go towards Molly’s guest bedroom.

Sally moved over into the kitchen, looking at the ramekins in the baking sheet as well as the pie. “That all looks delectable.”

“I’m hoping it turned out well. I’m usually quite good at converting American recipes,” she said with a smile as she shut the oven door. “Did you get any good news from the information you received?”

“I think I did,” she replied. “I thought I might go over it with you and Mary. When I talked with Philip he’d given me some ideas of things to look at and I think one of them came to fruition.”

“Well, let’s start getting all of this to the table while the pie cools and Mary puts Renee to bed and we’ll see what we can come up with,” Molly said. She and Sally put the ramekins on plates and took the plates to the kitchen table, leaving the last three ramekins on a serving platter, and then Sally took silverware for them to eat with while Molly took three wine glasses. Sally brought over the wine she had brought, a bottle of Oliver Conti Turó Negre 2009, and by the time Molly had brought over the sugar snap peas she had also prepared Mary was done and joining them. “All right. So, what did you learn?”

“Well,” Sally said after she took a bite of her dinner, “there was an interesting spike in her financials a few days after some of the robberies. Not all of them, but I cross-referenced them with her work schedules and every time there was a robbery where she was not working, there would be a sizeable deposit in her current account. So I think that’s a very big indication that Annabelle Gardner is involved in the thefts in some way, whether it’s the actual thefts or gathering information on them.” She had some more of her food. “As the deposits correlate with days off I’d say she’s actually involved in the thefts.”

“That would give her a reason to run,” Mary said thoughtfully. “If the man’s death is a warning, though, what would the warning be about?”

“Well, that’s the other interesting thing I found out,” sally said. “There were also, on a few occasions, other deposits in her account. Not quite as large, but they would be around the time of other burglaries, though not ones tied to this particular burglary ring, or at least ones Scotland Yard hadn’t considered to be part of the ring. But these thefts were _also_ on her days off.”

“What type of job did she have?” Molly asked, reaching for her wine.

“She worked for a catering company, who caters many of the high class events held throughout London,” Sally said. “So my theory is that the catering company is involved somehow, and Annabelle Gardner was trying to freelance, so Roger Handel was killed to keep her from doing that.”

Mary tilted her head slightly. “That’s a solid beginning of a theory,” she said.

“I know,” Sally said with a small sigh. “I didn’t think it sounded complete, either.”

“Have you been through his financials yet?” Molly asked.

Sally nodded. “One of the first things I went through. Regular payments from his employers. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

Mary was quiet for a moment. “What if…what if the reason the deposits were so sizeable after some robberies and not for others was because Annabelle was making deposits for _two_ people?” she asked. “Who else had access to her current account?”

Sally left the table to go to her handbag. She didn’t normally bring things home with her, but she’d taken notes on as much as she could since she knew she’d be able to go over it with them tonight. “Just her roommate,” she said once she pulled out her notes and flipped through them.

“Does her roommate also work for the catering company?” Mary asked.

Sally’s eyes widened and she shook her head. “Son of a…” she muttered, beginning to pace. “She knows where Annabelle is. She’s known the whole time. She’s known and she’s been feeding her money to stay gone. She’s in on this too.”

Molly leaned back in her seat. “So what are you going to do?” she asked Sally once Sally sat down again.

Sally thought for a moment. “Well, first I’m going to make sure Annabelle’s assets are frozen, especially that current account. Then I’m going to look into the roommate’s financials. Tonight, if I can, and tomorrow morning if I can’t. And then tomorrow I’m going to bring the roommate in for a chat. And hopefully by tomorrow night I’ll have Annabelle Gardner back in London and I’ll have answers once and for all as to what exactly happened that night and who killed Roger Handel and Teresa Marruffo.” She looked down at her food. “But at this exact moment I’m going to at least enjoy my dinner, though I may have to skip out on dessert.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll save you a slice,” Molly said with a smile.

“Thanks,” Sally said back, picking up her fork and eating another bite of the shepherd’s pie. Things were starting to fall into place. She was so close to solving this, _so close_. All she needed now was to get Annabelle Gardner back before Holmes got the robbery ring figured out and just maybe she could beat him at this.


	10. Chapter 10

Molly made her way to the morgue the next morning, not too terribly surprised to see Sherlock waiting outside. “Hello,” she said, giving him a smile.

He nodded. “Hello,” he said. It was then that she noticed he had two coffees in his hand and that John wasn’t with him. When she got close enough he offered her one. “Mocha with two shots amaretto flavored syrup and one shot espresso, topped with whipped cream. Correct?”

“Yes,” she said, her smile getting wider. “You didn’t have to, though.”

“It’s thanks, for keeping me from having to lie through my teeth in public,” he said, opening the door for her. She stepped inside and made her way to the office with him behind her. “Seltzmann asked me if I was defending your honour when I roughed up Hamilton and I remembered what you told me so I admitted I was, and he said a public apology would not be necessary. In fact, he said _you_ should be expecting a written apology from Hamilton once his arm is out of the sling.”

Molly’s eyes widened. “I wasn’t expecting that,” she said quietly.

“Well, as Seltzmann has a fondness for you I doubt he liked the fact that Hamilton called you certain uncouth names,” Sherlock said with a shrug, sitting on the edge of the desk. “I’m also fairly sure it was strongly suggested he look for employment elsewhere.”

“I don’t want him to lose his job over this,” Molly said, sinking into her chair.

Sherlock looked down at his coffee. “I didn’t tell Greg the full extent of what Hamilton said, though I did tell Seltzmann,” he said quietly. “Hamilton had plans to humiliate you. Tarnish your reputation here at Barts. Potentially discredit you in the scientific community. He wanted to ruin you for what he perceived as the ultimate humiliation. I told him if he even attempted to instigate those plans there would be no corner of this earth dark enough for him to hide from me. That was when he went into the rant and began to call you the names.”

She gasped. “He’s a vile piece of work,” she said.

Sherlock nodded. “He is,” he agreed. He looked up and took a sip of his coffee. “Your reputation is safe, however. When Mycroft was informed of what he might do he began to dig into Hamilton’s background. There is enough dirt there to bury him and suffocate him in his own mistakes, should he attempt to slander you.”

“Thank you,” she said. She looked over at him. “I…um…” She trailed off for a moment. “How is your case going?”

“Almost solved,” he said. “I set up a trap which should be sprung today. I’ll know who the leader of the organization is by this afternoon. Early evening at the latest. Then the case will be wrapped up and I can move on to something else.”

“Oh,” she said quietly.

He studied her. “I’ve heard you and Donovan have made good strides on the murder investigation part of this. She’s close.”

“Yes, but probably not close enough to solve it before you,” she said glumly.

“My solving the robbery angle doesn’t mean the homicide will be solved without a shadow of a doubt,” he pointed out. “Considering none of the evidence I’ve collected has anything to do with that case, it’s still important that she does what she does.”

She looked up at him and tilted her head. “Why didn’t you focus on the homicide?”

“It wasn’t as interesting,” he said with a shrug.

“That’s bollocks,” she said. “I’ve found it to be very interesting.”

“Perhaps I should have said it’s not interesting _enough_ ,” he said. “But I am glad you’re finding enjoyment in the case. It has been interesting crossing paths with you on this. You’ve picked up quite a few skills.”

“Well, I was bound to eventually,” she said. “I’ve spent enough time around you.”

“Perhaps in the future we could—” He was cut off by Molly’s mobile ringing. “You should answer that.”

Molly blinked for a moment and then scrambled to her handbag to pull out her mobile. She saw it was Sally calling and answered it. “Yes?” 

“The roommate is Annabelle Gardner’s sister,” Sally said.

“What?” Molly asked, surprised.

“She’s her half-sister, but they were raised together. Went back and looked at family records. Roxanne Herringer took her dad’s last name while Annabelle had their mum’s but they’re related. And we just caught her wiring money to a small village in Sussex. I’m bringing her in now and we’re alerting the police there to get whoever it is that picks up the money.”

“Good,” Molly said with a grin, casting a glance at Sherlock. “Are you bringing the roommate in?”

“Yeah. We’re going to have a nice, long chat, I hope. And even if we don’t? I’ve got some leverage now. I’m going to get answers, one way or another.”

“Best of luck, then,” Molly said. “Let me know what happens, all right?”

“I will,” Sally said.

Molly hung up and Sherlock looked over at her. “I take it that was Sally?” he asked.

She nodded. “Yeah.”

“If she knows where Annabelle Gardner is then that means my trap might be sprung sooner rather than later,” he said as he got off the desk. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Sherlock?” she asked as he headed towards the door.

“Yes?” he asked as he paused, hand above the handle.

“You were…I got the feeling you were going to ask me something,” she said.

“It can keep,” he replied.

“All right,” she said quietly, a tinge of disappointment in her voice. He put his hand on the handle and then turned the knob and let himself out. She watched the door shut behind him and then sighed, sipping the coffee. If she was important to him, perhaps she wasn’t important _enough_ after all.


	11. Chapter 11

Sally left the interview room and leaned against the door, wide smile on her face. They hadn’t needed Annabelle Gardner after all; Roxanne had told her everything she needed to know, and she was now writing it all down for the record. Once Annabelle was brought to them they’d confront her with the truth, get the firsthand account of it all from her since she was there and Roxanne wasn’t. They’d offer her a deal of some sort on the robbery charges, but it was all over. She knew who had murdered Roger Handel and Teresa Marruffo.

She quickly made her way to Greg’s office and it wasn’t until she rounded the corner that she saw Holmes making his way there equally as quickly. _Damn it, he solved the case,_ she thought to herself, and so she picked up her tempo, making it to the door just seconds before him, her hand on the knob and her face in the doorway first. But he was a bit taller than her and he stuck his head over hers. “I know who did it,” they chorused, surprising Greg to the point he nearly spilled his coffee down his chest.

“Bloody hell!” Greg said before glaring at the two of them. Sally finished opening the door and came into the office first with Sherlock right behind her. She glared at Holmes, who looked right back at her not with a glare, but with a more curious look. Greg looked back and forth between the two of them. “Well? Who did it, then?”

Sherlock motioned to Sally. “Go on.”

Sally blinked, her mouth involuntarily opening slightly. He was letting _her_ go first? That was a surprise. She recovered quickly, though. “The killer was Irving Castenada, the head of the robbery ring that Roger Handel, Annabelle Gardner and Roxanne Herringer were all a part of.”

Sherlock nodded. “Roger was trying to convince select members of the group to break away from Irving. Annabelle and a man who washed up on the shore of the Thames earlier this week, Sean Selley, had agreed to follow Roger in his new endeavour. That was the body I had Molly autopsy as a favour. Sean Selley was not part of the catering company, but he, like Roger, was a fencer of the stolen goods. Annabelle was one of the actual thieves.”

“Roxanne said the night that Roger was killed, Annabelle told her they’d gone to his employer’s home. Roger was supposed to be there to show them what the most valuable things to steal were,” Sally said. “When he wasn’t there like planned Irving said to take anything that looked valuable. Then , when they got down to the sitting room, he made Annabelle look at the wall where Roger was propped up. According to Roxanne, it was just the two of them, and Irving told her, 'You steal from me, this happens to you' and he took the shotgun and shot Roger in the chest.”

“Now, what _I_ found out was Irving had already been cheating his partners in the ring, and Roger found out about it,” Sherlock said. “That was why he was trying to break away. Irving was casing the places before, showing up earlier than everyone else, and pocketing the small but expensive pieces of jewelry on his own. He was using outside fencers away from London to get rid of the stolen loot and Roger found out. He knew Irving was going to do the same at his employer’s home so he was waiting, but Irving _knew_ he would be there and so he killed him with the succinylcholine and then decided to scare Annabelle into submission. It was later he found out Roger hadn’t told her the truth but he _had_ told Sean and so Sean had to die. Molly found he, too, had been asphyxiated with succinylcholine before he was dumped in the river.”

“But how does Teresa Marruffo fit into all this?” Greg asked.

Sally looked over at Sherlock. “Do you want to explain it or should I?” she asked.

“By all means, go for it,” he said.

“Teresa Marruffo had arranged for the ring to rob her employer for a cut of the profits,” she said, turning back to Greg. “Her employers were stingy, not paying her her worth. But Irving decided he wanted her cut for himself, so instead of having to pay her a share later he stabbed her with the syringe of succinylcholine during the robbery to make it appear she died of shock during the robbery since she was so old.”

“Do we have enough evidence to arrest this Irving Castenada?” Greg asked, leaning back in his seat.

Sherlock nodded. “I have evidence to present,” he said.

“I have a member of the robbery ring ready to testify firsthand about Teresa Marruffo in exchange for a deal,” Sally said. “And when Annabelle Gardner is brought in, if another deal can be arranged, she can provide details as well.”

“We’ll see about a deal with Gardner, because that’s up to the prosecutor anyway,” Lestrade said. “But this is a job well done. A robbery ring taken apart with only two deaths.”

“Three,” Sherlock corrected. “Sean Selley’s death is also connected to this, though it was not an officially linked death to the robbery ring.”

“Three deaths, then,” Lestrade said. “Still. That’s pretty good. Sherlock, go outside for a minute. I need to talk to Sally for a minute before we all troop down to the Superintendent’s office to give him the good news.”

Sherlock nodded before looking over at Sally. “You did a good job,” he said, in a sincere voice. “At least as good as I would have done.”

“Thanks, Holmes,” she said, giving him a small smile. “I appreciate it. And…you didn’t do so bad yourself.” He gave her a faint smile and then made his way out of the office, shutting the door behind him. Sally then turned to Greg. “Well?”

“There was never anything you had to prove to me, you know,” he said, giving her a wide grin. “I always knew you were the brightest cop in the Yard.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Well, if you knew that, then why was Holmes brought on the case?”

“Because Seltzmann can be an idiot sometimes,” Greg said.

Sally snorted a laugh at that. “God, that’s true.”

“Look, I’ll make sure everyone knows you and Holmes share equal credit. You solved the homicide, fair and square, and he tackled the robbery ring. Hell, I may even have the credit go a bit more on your side. You did good work, Sally. Really good work. I’m proud of you.”

She gave him a warm smile. “Well, I’m glad for that.”

“I think that tonight we should celebrate. Pints on me.” Then he paused. “No, you’re a gin woman. Viaduct Tavern? After the shift is over? You and everyone who helped solve the case?”

“Think you can get John Watson to babysit his daughter again? Maybe without running off to go help Holmes on a case?” Sally asked with a laugh. “On second thought, invite him too. And Holmes, if he won’t complain through the evening. I mean, they solved the other half of the case. They can celebrate too.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Greg said with a grin, standing up. “Let’s go make Seltzmann’s day, shall we?”

“Let’s,” Sally said with a nod as she made her way to the door, wide grin on her face. This felt good. No, this felt better than good. This felt great. She’d managed to solve the case she set out to solve, she was getting equal credit with Holmes…this was a good thing. She could feel it.


	12. Chapter 12

Molly had gotten the call from Sally around three to let her know that they knew who the killer was, and another call around half past four to let her know that the man had been caught and there was going to be a press conference and drinks at the Viaduct Tavern afterward for everyone who’d been involved in the case with Greg buying. Sally even mentioned that she might be able to get her hands on another glass or two of Cardamom & Peach to celebrate, or possibly three to share with Mary. She had to admit, that wouldn’t be a bad way to spend the evening, in the company of friends, celebrating a job well done. She deserved a bit of celebration, after all, for her contributions to the case.

She was finishing up the paperwork she’d been doing when she heard the doors open. She glanced up at the clock on the wall. Her shift was over in ten minutes. She wasn’t in the mood to get stuck much later; she wanted to run back to her flat and change into something at least a _little_ nicer than the khaki trousers and turquoise and lavender shirt she was wearing. It _was_ a celebration, after all. “If it’s a body I’ll be out shortly,” she called out, finishing out the sentence she was writing.

“It’s just me,” Sherlock said quietly as he opened the door to her office. 

She looked up and gave him a smile. “Oh, good,” she said. “I was afraid I’d have to stay here even later and miss the chance to get drinks with everyone tonight.”

“So you were going to go?” he asked, moving to what seemed to be the customary spot on the edge of her desk.

She nodded. “I thought it might be fun. I like the drinks there, and Sally said she was going to try and get John and Mary to come. Thought it might be a bit of a party. Were you thinking of going?”

“I was invited, but I usually avoid those types of things,” he said.

“Ah,” she replied. After a moment she set down her pen. “What were you going to do tonight?”

“There was a case that interested me,” he said. “John told me about it. I was going to meet with the client tonight. Something about two men claiming to be the same person who look nearly identical to each other, and there’s no fingerprints on file of the man they’re claiming to be.”

“That sounds fascinating,” she said with a smile. 

“I…” he began. “I spoke with Donovan today, between laying things out for Seltzmann and the press conference, and she told me about your contributions to the case, about how she couldn’t have solved it without you.”

Molly blushed at that. “I wouldn’t go _that_ far,” she said, looking down.

“Anyway, I was wondering if you’d like to help solve this case?” he asked. “I could use someone with a keen intellect and sharp mind to assist me. Not that John doesn’t have that, but he seemed eager to join everyone for drinks. Or rather Mary did, and he wanted to go with her.”

“So you just want me there because John’s not there?” she asked.

“No! I mean, I would like to work with you. I’d like to see what you’re capable of,” he said. And then he sighed, shaking his head. “Damn it all, that came out all wrong.”

She gave him a curious look. “Sherlock?”

“I want to spend time with you,” he said, looking down. “I mean, I know I do spend time with you, but…away from Barts, I suppose. And I would like to solve cases with you, but I’d like to do other things as well.”

She felt a wide smile begin to form on her face. “Well, when were you planning to meet with the client?”

“Seven,” he said.

She glanced at the clock and saw it was nearly five. “Maybe afterward we could go to dinner?”

He looked at her and a grin formed on his own face. “Or we could just go to dinner and I could tell the client tomorrow would be more convenient, and if he doesn’t like it he can sod off.”

“Or you can do that, too,” she said with a laugh. “Can I at least change into something nicer?”

“You look perfectly fine in that, minus the lab coat,” he said. “But if you want to impress me I suppose I won’t say no.”

“I would like very much to impress you,” she said.

“Then I would like very much to be impressed,” he said, his own grin getting wider.

She glanced down at the paperwork and then gathered it up and put it in its proper place. It could keep until tomorrow, she decided. She stood up and slipped off her lab coat, going to hang it up, and then went to get her handbag as Sherlock stood. After a moment she went to the office door and opened it up, nodding towards the opening. They made their way out of the office and out of the morgue, and as they walked to the lift she reached over tentatively for his hand, and was pleased when he grasped it firmly in his. She grinned so widely at that she was afraid the corners of her mouth might crack but it didn’t matter. This was, without a doubt, a better ending to her day than she could have hoped for…and her day wasn’t quite done yet.


End file.
